


michaela's most human days

by certifiedthembo



Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, I love my girl, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, i randomly give michaela certain magic abilities like being able to conjure small flames bc i can, warning for animal death in first chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29102475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiedthembo/pseuds/certifiedthembo
Summary: Collection of short stories of more sweet and mundane things Michaela gets up to while living as a human.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	michaela's most human days

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys CW for animal death in this chapter! 1 baby chick dies (but all the others live!) And yeah I decided the Freezis mansion has chickens, why not?

Water, water, water, water everywhere, submerging the grass and engulfing the new spring shoots in the Freezis Mansion garden. Water swallowing the sidewalks, drowning the doorsteps, pooling around the flower patches, water up to her heels and swishing underfoot.

Now, an occasionally rainy day, Michaela could handle. It was fun to skip through the showers and sing with the wind. But when it poured, incessant and nonstop for days on end like it had the past week- _that_ was what Michaela had trouble with. As much as Michaela liked a little rainfall, she was “a creature of sunshine” as her friends described her, (“in more sense than one,” the sweet older ladies would add with a wink). She needed bright clear days to feel like herself. She _needed_ to be outside during the day, and storms made that difficult. A steady drizzle was refreshing on the skin, but hammering cold droplets partnered with howling wind was one of the few ways to make Michaela stay inside. Couple that with thunder and lightning- don’t even get her started.

Storms are really the only bane of the wonderful and superior spring season, Michaela often thought. _However,_ she would then remind herself, _N_ _othing a day of sunshine and some puddle stomping can’t fix!_

She glided her feet in the puddles, enjoying the ensuing spray of water on her legs and the rush of coolness on her feet inside her boots. True, puddle stomping was considered unbecoming for a maid of the esteemed Freezis family, but she would clean herself up afterward and no harm done. Spotting a branch submerged in a neighboring puddle, she gleefully shot up into the air and landed on it, rewarded with a mighty splash that reached her face and alarmed the chickens that were diving for worms in the flowerbeds. They scattered, squawking indignantly, the recently-hatched chicks making particularly cute cheeping noises. The branch wasn’t brittle enough to have snapped (naturally, as it was soaked) but it was fun anyway.

She went to the little waterfall that always showed up in the bush rows every time it rained hard and stuck her hand under the flowing stream, relishing the rushing water on her skin. The bracing cold was refreshing, the sunlight invigorating. She felt like she could breathe for the first time in days. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.

The peaceful moment was shattered when she heard a screech from the courtyard.

Michaela whipped around, bewildered but ready. A familiar voice called, “Oh, Michaela! Oh no!”

If she hadn’t known better, she would have guessed that someone was having a major overreaction to the fact that Michaela’s skirt was a _little_ completely drenched. However, she recognized Clarith's voice, and she was used to Michaela's antics, so it probably wasn't that. Michaela was not sure she wanted to know what could have gotten her friend into such a tizzy, yet she bounded across the garden, splashing through puddles to follow the voice. Because that was what friends were for.

When she found Clarith in the courtyard, she sympathized with her dismay.

The white-haired woman had her face buried in one hand, the other pointing to the overflowing creek. Michaela followed her gesture and, with a lurch in her stomach, wished she hadn’t.

“It’s dead!” Clarith wailed. Michaela winced and took an unwilling step forward, eyeing the tragic little yellow body of a chick as it floated sadly in the floodwater. “I came out to clean up the mulch that got washed onto the walkway and I found it and it’s dead!”

“Oh, poor little _thing_ ,” Michaela said with deep sympathy. But what did Clarith expect Michaela to do about it?

“Michaela, can you get it out?” Clarith answered Michaela’s unspoken thought with the exact thing Michaela did not want to hear. “I don’t want to touch it, or look at it.”

Frankly, Michaela had No Desire Whatsoever to do either those things herself, but she didn’t want Clarith to know that, or to make Clarith do it. “Yeah, sure,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll see if I can find a place to bury it, poor little sprout.”

“Thank you,” Clarith said, sniffing. Michaela took a step back, thinking of what she would need- a shovel, for one thing, or probably a trowel would work fine, and preferably something she could scoop the chick up in without having to touch it. Maybe a pitcher?

“I’ll go get... stuff,” she said, backing away. “I’ll be right back. And we’ll need to keep an eye out for other chicks- they pretty much cannot swim at all, and everything is submerged, so there might be more, poor things.” She felt ill to think about it. Poor innocent creatures.

“There might be more?” Clarith gasped. Michaela realized she shouldn’t have mentioned that. “Oh no! Michaela, what if there are more?”

“Actually, don’t worry about it,” Michaela said with a prickle of guilt. “I’ll take care of it.”

She’d found her trowel and pitcher and was just bending over the tragic little once-fluff to pick it up when she heard her name called again.

“Michaela! MICHAELA! MICHAELA I FOUND ANOTHER ONE IT’S STILL ALIVE!”

Before she had fully registered the words Michaela was once again shooting towards Clarith’s voice, supplies dropped and forgotten. When she reached her friend, Clarith was trying to scoop the little one out of the puddle, but was only succeeding at grabbing ineffectually at the water and sweeping it out of reach. Michaela swiftly stepped in, edged Clarith away, and scooped up the little creature. It chirped weakly.

“Is it okay?” Clarith asked.

“I’m… not sure.” Michaela's throat closed up. On one hand, the fact that it was chirping at all seemed like a good sign, but on the other hand, based on her observations, baby chicks chirped a lot more and louder than this. Oh, the poor, poor thing. “I’ll do what I can. Check for more.” With one last worried look at the chick, Clarith about-faced and, holding up her skirt, starting jogging along the paths, checking every puddle or overflown creek that a little chick could have fallen into. Michaela tried with no avail to rub the chick dry on her clothes, but they were nearly as wet as the little bird. It was shaking badly. It needed to get warm and dry fast, faster than Michaela could find a towel for it. With a furtive glance around, Michaela flicked her wrist and conjured a tiny flame to hold underneath the little creature. She rotated the makeshift candle around the chick, trying to dry it off and give it a little heat. Keeping the flame going for now, she set off for the nearest entrance to the mansion.

After a while, she was able to get inside found towels to gently pat it dry with. As she patted it down, it was starting to look more fluffy than like a drowned rat, which Michaela thought was a good sign. It still seemed awfully cold, though. With another furtive look over her shoulder, she used her magic to summon a flame once more. Resting the chick in a bundle of hand towels on the table, she passed the flame over it, again and again.

Her back was turned to the door, and she did not register the footsteps coming her direction until the door swung open. She stiffened, the flame sputtering out. The footsteps paused, and she could feel eyes boring into her. Michaela's mind blanked with fear so she couldn't even remember if she was supposed to be scared about being caught with a chick indoors or caught doing magic. But the maid only said "Michaela, you look horrid, change at once," before sweeping on. Her shoulders sagged with relief. Off the hook for now.

It was a bit of a task to change clothes while still holding onto the chick, but Michaela managed it. Now the chick could snuggle against her for warmth, so Michaela didn't feel like she needed to rely on magic fire anymore, which was a relief. It was chirping calmly, much less tense and miserable-seeming. Another relief. She was sitting down to catch her breath, cradling it thoughtfully against her chest, when Clarith found her.

“Is it all right?” Clarith hovered anxiously. “Oh, it looks better. I can’t believe you brought it inside! Don’t let Bruno find out, he’ll have a fit.”

“Did you find any more chicks?” Michaela asked, trying to stem the flow of Clarith’s nervous energy.

“I think it’s all clear. I looked in every puddle. Plus Elena said that she counted fourteen chicks the other day, and I counted twelve with their mother. I put them in their coop so the mom can look after them and they can’t fall into more puddles.”

“Good call,” Michaela said. “This one needs to go back too. Its mother will have a better idea what to do with it than I do. I think. I think? Will it?”

“Maybe?” Clarith offered. “At least she can sit on it, and that will keep it warm.”

They encountered two problems with that plan; One, the mother was not in the mood for sitting. Two, the chick _screamed_ when Michaela tried to leave it with her.

“Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness, calm down!” The chick paid no mind and continued shrieking its head off. Clarith tried to shoo the mother towards her baby but the hen strutted away like “I have twelve more babies to corral, I don’t care about this one’s temper tantrum.” Panicked, Michaela scooped her chick back up and the shrieking died off immediately.

“Think it’s attached to me much?” Michaela joked weakly. At least it must mean the chick was feeling reasonably strong if it could make an almighty racket like that. Cupping it in both hands, she raised the little creature to eye level. “Excuse me. I am not your mom. Go be with your mom.” The chick squinted its eyes at her like “Sucker.”

“Michaela, I regret to inform you that I think you’re its mother now,” Clarith said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Unfair. It was easy for Clarith to be amused. _She_ didn’t have the responsibility of parenthood.

“I can’t raise you,” Michaela informed it, bringing it to her nose. “I have things to do. Like chores. And work. And burying your sibling.” Hmm, parenthood suddenly seemed appealing in comparison.

“I really can’t,” Michaela said again, more to convince herself. But it was so _cute._ She forced herself to lower it to the other chickens again, but she didn’t even get her hands to the ground before the chick started screaming and trying to force itself further into Michaela’s hands. People were going to hear and barge in, demanding to know why Michaela was murdering an innocent baby bird.

“All right, all right, you win!” Michaela drew it up under her neck, and the chick quieted contentedly. “I was _starting_ to call you Chirp in my head, but honestly I think Holler fits you much better. Yeah, you earned a name. I hope you feel good about yourself.”

So Michaela was now a proud mother to a tiny, very loud, very fluffy baby and people were just going to have to deal with that.

Still, this would probably be easier if Holler didn’t get in the way of her work, so Clarith helped her come up with a contraption that would let Holler cuddle on her while still keeping her hands free.

Which was why, half an hour later, she brought Madam Maylis and Lord Keel their afternoon tea with a chick slung in a scarf around her neck.

It took a few moments for them to notice, but Michaela felt it when they did. She heard the quiet fall and felt their eyes scrutinizing her quizzically as she set their table. She offered no comment or explanation. Keel was the first to succumb and break the silence.

“Michaela. What do you have there?”

“Earl gray tea,” Michaela said without looking up from the steaming cup she was pouring.

“Michaela,” Keel said firmly. She couldn’t stop himself from looking up to meet his eyes. “Why, pray tell, do you have chick on you neck?”

“Not my fault,” Michaela said. “Here, watch this,” She set the chick down on the coffee table- which earned a _strong_ feeling of disapproval from both of them- but her point was made when Holler started doing what they were named for. She picked them back up and tucked them back into her scarf sling. “As you can see, I have no choice in the matter. I’m a mother now.”

Maylis laughed, but Keel took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _Michaela..._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> woohooo first published fanfic! This was based on a true story from a couple years ago. Thanks for reading!


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